


Political Marriage

by aisuho



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, F/M, Games, Heavy Angst, Marriage of Convenience, Married Couple, Post-Game(s), Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7547287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisuho/pseuds/aisuho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn Trevelyan has always been determined to fight for the rights of her and her fellow mages.<br/>Being a noble, she had the opportunity to master the Game. And it was with those skills, together with the Inquisition's power and influence that she is able to guarantee the freedom of her kind.<br/>But even after the Breach is sealed, Leliana is made Divine, the Circles ceased to exist, and Thedas seems to be returning to its peace, the long existing conflict between the mages and templars, together with the scrunity those that bore the gift of the Maker had suffered have all but ended.<br/>It was then that Evelyn had to make a decision that would change her life forever: marry the former templar, Commander of the Inquisition, with the only objective to prove to those that the two opposite forces didn't have to fight, that they could get along just fine.<br/>Her objective is fulfilled easy enough, but Evelyn never expected Cullen to discover the truth behind their bound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was hard for me to write. It's a multi-chapter fic (already finished, going to post everything in the spawn of a week or a week and a half). Short, fast.  
> Lots of angst and twisted emotions, be prepared.
> 
> It's **not** fluffy (or wasn't meant to be exactly).
> 
> Fill for Kink!Meme prompt:
> 
>   _Political Marriage, F!INxCullen-Angst-y broken-hearted!Cullen_  
>  (Anonymous)  
> 2015-11-03 06:50 am (UTC)  
> So on here I've seen different ways people want to see Cullen miserable and crying: rape, torture, red-lyrium (all very deliciously good ideas btw), but I have another idea that would make the guy miserable:
> 
>   _Female human mage Inquisitor marriages and courts him for political gain for mages (aka playing the game). She's willing to do anything to make them free and equal. She got Lilinna to become divine, but people are still unsure a mage and Templar could ever live equally in harmony--well what better way to show that they can by marrying a now extremely popular Ex-Templar to bring about A and powerful political marriage that will make both parties happy. Only thing is, Cullen (so desperate to be happy and feeling so lucky to have the Inquisitor by his side) doesn't find out that it wasn't love until several months after marriage and he's devastated. Up to filler if they work it out (if Cullen can see her point of view and tries to form an actual true emotional bond) or if it doesn't work out, and whatever Cullen does is up to you._

##

Cullen felt like the happiest man alive. The Inquisition prospered, the Breach was sealed, Corypheus was defeated.   
He had been off lyrium for more than two years, and although he still felt some of the symptoms he could say the worst had been over, especially now that he had the beloved Inquisitor Trevelyan Rutheford by his side.   
It had been two months since they married and eight after Leliana was crowned Divine. And although her strong inclination to dissolve the Circles and make the mages free had caused much fuss at first, things in Thedas were moving for the better now.   
He couldn't help but think that his marriage with Trevelyan, a marriage between a former templar and a mage had, in some way or another, contributed to the peace that was starting now to prevail in Thedas.  
Yet all of those things paled in comparison to his own happiness.

Cullen was by the gates of Skyhold, waiting. He had just heard the horns announce the approach of the Inquisitor and her party, who was coming back from a trip to Val Royeaux.  
He left his pile of reports behind — although the Breach had been sealed, the work of the Inquisition was still not done, and proof of that was the surprisingly still overwhelming amount of paperwork he had to convey. He left all his work undone just to have the opportunity to be the first to greet the Inquisitor when she arrived, and Maker, how much he had missed her — a week apart was enough to make him anxious and fidgeting his fingers together like some teenage boy in love for the first time.

He had already made plans for the day: first he would give her the most passionate kiss he could give; take her in his arms and sweep her off her feet as he remembered her once again how much he loved her. Then he would carry her to her —their— chambers, where a hot bath had been already prepared and was waiting for her. While she relaxed her exhausted muscles he would bring her favorite sweets that he had ordered.   
Cullen was sure he wouldn't be able to wait for her to dry herself and wear some clothes after the bath. Oh no— he would take her as how she was. Guide her to their bed and worship her body, lavishing her with his adoring kisses and drowning her with his love.

The voice of a guardsman, announcing the Inquisitor as the gates started to be opened took the Commander out of his reverie.

There she was: his lover, his wife. He couldn't contain —nor did he try to— the biggest smile that appeared on his lips; his face illuminating at the sight of Evelyn Trevelyan.  
Their eyes met and locked, Cullen was so bewitched by her presence that he didn't care that her smile hadn't been so open as his, surely that was only due to her exhaustion and nothing more.  
He accompanied her and her party to the stables, almost not being able to hold himself on his tracks and wait for her to dismount her horse and give its reins to Dennet.  
When she turned around to him, he moved closer, stretching his arms at her sides and taking her in a hug, tight but not as tight as he wanted to, afraid to break her with his affection.   
He waited for her to hug him back like she always did.

And he waited.

And waited.

But her arms were down, her body stiff and her voice vacant when he told her he loved her and missed her.  
With some hesitancy, Cullen let go and took a step back, hiding the hurt in his eyes as he looked at her.  
“Is everything alright, my love?”  
Her gaze was down, as if something on the ground had caught her attention.  
“Yes, I—” she bit her lips, her chin not lifting up as she let out an intense sigh and dropped her shoulders. “I'm just tired, that's all.”  
“Don't worry,” he shook the disappointment off his voice, giving her a sheepish grin as he spoke. If she was tired he wouldn't press her. Instead, he reached out for her hand and took it to his lips, kissing her knuckles as he said. “If you want, there's a bath waiting for you.”  
At his words, a ghost of what seemed to be a smile appeared on her lips.   
With a nod, she complied to his suggestion, letting him pass a hand behind her and rest it against her lumbar as he escorted her to their chambers.

That day was the day when everything started to fall apart.

Cullen had left Evelyn to her bath, returning an hour later, a plate full of orlesian cakes —her favorite flavors— on his hands.   
When he got up the stairs, he saw his beloved wife staring at her own reflection in the mirror, a stern expression as she seemed to be thoughtful.   
He smiled at the sight of her naked body, his amber eyes already turning black with desire.   
The sound of the plate hitting her nightstand made Evelyn turn around, finally taking knowledge of his presence.  
“Cullen—” she started, but her voice soon ceased to be when he took long steps towards her, his hands resting against her waist.  
“I've missed you,” his husky voice filled the gap between them.  
She knew that look — that look of pure adoration that he always bore when he looked at her. Not because he wanted to take her, but because he loved her. 

And for the first time, that hurt.

She swallowed dry, her gaze diverting to the side in an attempt to not feel suffocated by his intense stare.   
“Cullen, I—” she tried again, her voice cracking as a node formed inside her throat. How could she tell him about her real feelings?  
How could she tell him that she had been lying to him all this time? That she only married him because she wanted to stabilize the mages and templars conflict?

Evelyn was a noble, and a mage on top of that.   
She grew up in the Circle, but due her nobility connections she always had it easier than her fellow mages.  
Her blood earned her visits to her family every so often, letting her be rose as a noble more than a mage. Her parents were great adepts of the orlesians traditions, and that gave her the skills of diplomacy — not as much as Josephine, but enough to make her way around and conquer everything she wanted.  
Yet her advantages haven't made her blind to the reality of her ‘gift’, much less to the reality of her brothers.  
She saw first handed her friends suffer as they were locked for the rest of their lives in a tower, constant fear of making a single step wrong and being turned into a Tranquil. Always being watched closely by a templar.

The Inquisition had been her opportunity to change that reality, it gave her the power and influence she needed to make the lives of her brothers and sisters better.   
Evelyn made great use of the skills she acquired as a noble, of her ties with the Chantry and the nobility. She was, like her parents, an avid player of the Game, and with that she was able to, through one way or another, give mages power and protect them from the templars.   
They were now the Inquisition's allies, and with Leliana as Divine, their freedom was guaranteed.   
But at the end of the day, mages were still viewed as abominations, as beasts that deserved nothing but being locked and left to rot in a place no one cared about. Her movements have relieved, but not ceased the tension between mages and templars.   
And that was where Cullen came in — she was aware of his feelings for her, and she used it to her advantage. 

By the time the Inquisition had sealed the Breach and defeated Corypheus, Cullen became one of the most popular members of the organization. Not only for his good looks, but also due to his abilities to command.   
Everyday, an immeasurable amount of the most diverse proposals arrived. Noblewomen and men were desperate to have a piece of the man for themselves. Nobles wanted to marry their daughters and benefit from the influence of the Inquisition.   
He was already popular in Halamshiral, but when the news of the Inquisition's victory over the Magister spread through Thedas, everyone seemed to be in love with the Fereldan.  
The poor man, however, never seemed to care about those things— money, lands, titles, politics; nothing mattered to him. She watched as he refused letter after letter, rolling his eyes at the most bizarre ones.  
What surprised Evelyn, though, was seeing his feelings for her grow with each day that passed by, and how much he tried to (poorly) hide it from her.   
He was so shy that it was almost funny how it contradicted to the fearless and stiff posture he always bore when it came to his job.

His feelings were clear as day to anyone who saw him— he froze at her presence, sighed when she left, gave her some glances when he thought no one was watching, moved closer when he talked to her.  
At first she paid him no mind, it wasn't like she didn't like him— he was an honest man, a nice person— but she never felt the same way as he did.  
Yet things have changed, but not because her feelings, but because of the advantage such alliance could bring.  
Her relationship with Cullen was nothing more than a mean to the ends: a marriage between a (former) templar and a mage, between the Commander of the Inquisition and his Inquisitor. The most powerful alliance one could desire. And that was exactly what she had in mind when Evelyn confessed her feelings for him.

“Evie…?” his gauntleted hand moved to her cheeks, his touch bringing her back to reality as her name echoed inside his lips.  
She looked at him, her gaze unsure as she could see her own face reflected on his irises. She swallowed harder than before, forcing the node in her throat to untangle.  
“I love you,” she said as she took the hand that was caressing her cheek and entwined their fingers together. She squeezed his hand, taking a short step towards him, making the gap between their bodies almost disappear.

Those words were lies, lies that cost her much. But maybe, if she kept saying them out loud, someday she would convince herself that that was the truth.

He smiled, leaning his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes.  
“I love you too,” he whispered. His voice so husky and low, so honeyed that he may even be telling her his deepest, darkest secret. 

She had done it before. She had lied to men, seduced them to her own gains, it was nothing new to her.

It was worth it— she kept saying in her mind.   
Lying to Cullen— it was worth it.

She took a deep breath, letting go of his hand so she could cup his cheeks and lift his head up. Her movements made him open his eyes, slowly, almost as if he was sleepy.  
She saw those amber eyes, as they almost turned dark as the void, gazing her.  
Shaking off her thoughts, Evelyn threw her lips at his, kissing him forcefully, as if that was some sort of self punishment.   
Cullen was surprised at first, but he soon answered with equal pace.

It was worth it; these thoughts kept echoing in her head. Spinning madly around her brain.  
It was worth it— but then why did it hurt?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the 2nd Chapter! Remembering it's 4 chapters in total.  
> :D

##

Cullen freed himself from the mess of blankets over him. He turned to the side only to see that his lover was still fast asleep.  
A smile appeared on his lips, there was nothing that he liked more than waking up next to Evelyn.

Their sex was great, but different from the usual. Their movements were rough and beastly like never before. He almost couldn't breathe when Evelyn threw herself at his lips, her furious kiss almost making him undone.  
She had never kissed him like that.  
A finger brushed his mouth, a little injury at the corner of his lips— one of the many marks of their love session. 

His gaze turned to the side once more when he heard Evelyn move on the bed, a heavy breath escaping her lips as her eyelids tightened, her brows frowning as her nose shrank. When he reached out for her cheek, she lazily opened her eyes.  
“Is everything alright?”  
She took a moment— time enough for her to go over the dream she had, not a good one, at that.  
Her hand moved over his, squeezing as her eyes squinted and the three words that never failed to leave him breathless got out of her lips.  
“I love you too,” his hoarse and honeyed voice made her heart jump, a shiver going down her spine as she tried to concentrate and overcome it.

The rest of their day went by calm enough— when Cullen had to get back to work, she followed him up to his office, staying there with him until after sunset. 

Her presence had made him nervous at first, but he couldn't complain— there was something soothing about having her around. 

Every now and then he would lift his gaze to find her sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, quietly reading a book she had taken from his bookshelf (something about troop movements, he couldn't quite remember its contents).  
A warm feeling flooded his veins every time their eyes would meet— it was a wonder how even after all this time together, Cullen's cheeks would still blush upon the sight of her smile. His shyness always making him divert his eyes and become flustered as he tried to get back to work.  
Evelyn couldn't help but smile when he tried to cover his redness. She stared in silence for the next few seconds, the twisting of her lips soon turning into a straight light as her body tensed.  
“Cullen, there's something—” she started in hesitation, her voice soon being cut down when the door to his office opened and a scout came through, his hands carrying a new pile of reports for the Commander to attend to.  
The moment was brief, Cullen dismissed the man shortly after the pile was dropped on his desk.  
His gaze turned towards Evelyn when the scout left the room and closed the door behind him.  
“Sorry—” he cleared his throat. She knew how much he hated when someone interrupted their talks. “Were you saying something?”  
She bit her lips; the courage she had gathered to speak had fled through the same door the scout had previously entered.  
“No, it was nothing,” a forced smile crept the corner of her lips, the shaking of her head dismissing the subject as she prompted herself to change topics before she said something stupid. “I missed you,” the words came immediately, and Cullen's reaction was faster than the beat of a second.  
His eyes softened, the corner of his lips lifting as his amber irises shone brightly at her. His motion taking the breath off her lungs.

Evelyn knew that look very well by now; that look of pure adoration that he made, the way his face relaxed, together with every muscle of his body. A reaction reserved only to her, and that left her wondering if he did that on purpose or not.  
She could see the worry behind his gaze, a subtle and almost imperceptible furrow of his brows that might've gone unnoticed had it been anyone else but her, yet a twitch that betrayed his every conscious movements.  
He wouldn't pursue the matter— how could he? Cullen was nothing but chivalrous, he would never put her on the spot, especially when she changed the subject without a second guess. Instead, he nodded —to her or to himself, she would never know— and turned back to work, taking the topmost report from the pile.

She watched in silence, heart throbbing as she contemplated her Commander's half smile while reading the paper at hand; a vestige of the happiness he felt by having her around.

Cullen had been through much, suffered much, ghosts of his past haunting and marking him 'till that day. At times, when she looked at him, she wondered if the Maker really existed, and if he did, how could he be so cruel to one of his most fervent servants?  
Her hand reached out for her collar bone, resting against her body as she pressed the elevation under her clothes. She carried it with her —his lucky coin— everywhere she went, since the day he had given it to her.  
But then, if the Maker was cruel, what would that make her?

What right had her, to get mad at the Maker for letting his children suffer when her— the Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste, was doing far worse to the man she knew that loved her unconditionally.  
Damned be her, for the hypocrite she was! For lying and toy with feelings of innocent lives for the better of her interests.

But the Maker had a cruel sense of humor, as Evelyn's lies would soon fall short. And she would be a victim to her own poison.  
Serves her right!

The sound of laughter filled the room, excited and drunk words being spoken here and there, echoes resonating against the place, making it seem much crowded than it was.

A single round of Wicked Grace, Varric had said.  
A lie— for the fourth or fifth time cards were disposed and collected around the table. Smug grins, thin lines and desperate looks stamped on the face of those who tried to hide the truth of their hands.  
Varric had gathered everyone in the tavern— well, everyone except for those who could be with them no longer, like Solas and Leliana. 

Evelyn didn't believe that the dwarf's plan of convincing her Commander to join the group would work, not after his walk of shame from the last time; especially when the memory was still vivid, burning inside everyone's minds.  
Yet she had to take her hat off to Varric, for Cullen's pride took the better of him when the revenge card was presented. Oh, the temptation of taking that smug smirk off the Ambassador's lips that insisted on appearing everytime they met in the War Room. The diabolical plan made his amber eyes glint. 

Mugs full of beverages fashioned around, the few servants that were still working came to refill the empty containers as soon as the last drip was drunk.  
Evelyn made note to pay them extra next time.  
More laughs filled the air as Varric told yet another story, the doubt creeping Evelyn's mind as she couldn't decide if the sounds were due Varric's talent for comedy or the alcohol going to their brains. Maybe a mix of both, she thought to herself.  
Grunts of frustration and lamentation being heard as another round came to its end— the sound of the silver coins being pushed by Josephine's small hands as she scored another victory for herself. The smirk in her lips a scary sight upon taking into consideration the always sweet and loving personality of the Antivan. She knew her game, no doubt about that.

Cullen took another gulp of his drink, a fearless expression on his face as he slammed (with more strength than he had wanted to) his mug against the table.  
“I will double my bet.”  
His self confident words summoning giggles around the table, Varric having difficulty to contain his own chuckle as he tried to warn the Commander about his not-so-smart decision. Him soon appealing to Trevelyan when he attempts met only failure.  
“Cullen,” she honeyed her tone as she eyed her lover. “It's Josie's fifth consecutive win, that's—”  
“I won't fall for her tricks again, my love.”  
The amber of his eyes shone as the candle's flame illuminated them, a hand over her shoulder as he leaned in to kiss her forehead, making any argument die short under his affection.  
She sighed, shrugging at Varric as her words also had no impact on his decision.  
It was futile to try to convince him— Cullen wasn't the type to gamble, but he definitely was the stubborn kind.  
More coins were dropped in the center of the table, each one's bets gathering to what some promised to be their last betting round. They've already lost too much coin to Josephine.

The game started again, a card being discarded here and there, someone tensing in an attempt to hide oneself's secrets. Sera laughed, shouting bluffs and bragging about her own cards everytime it was her turn again.  
It was clear that Evelyn was the worst player of them all, for she was the first one to run out of cards to play. She sighed, making her failure public.  
Cullen cast a side glance towards her, an expression of pity on his face as he passed an arm behind her back, grabbing her side before pulling her towards him.  
“Come here,” he whispered as he kissed her scalp.  
Evelyn's eyes closed, she filled her lungs with air when she felt his chin rest over her hair, but the calm didn't last long, for when Cole's turn came to be, things took a sudden twist.

“Free. They are free at last,” Cole's words took everyone by surprise, for the boy had spent all the night in silence, his presence almost going unnoticed most of the times. “Empty words whispered in the dark. A lie that will break the Void. She sees it, she knows.”  
“Kid, I've already told you to not talk to the—”  
“A broken reflection in the mirror. Can he see it? A twisted melody echoes. Singing, singing. How strong can I punch before the glass breaks?”

Evelyn arched a brow, freeing herself from Cullen's arms before straightening her back in the chair.  
Cole always puzzled her, his words always a crypt that she could never decipher, but not this time, for his next line made her body soon go rigid as realization crept her mind.

“It's worth it,” 

Cole's words reverbed inside her body like an earthquake. 

“It's worth it,” he repeated.

Time stopped. A half-second went by as she heard the sound of glass shattering— or maybe it was only her mind playing tricks as the truth was being stripped down before her. She saw months and months of being set on fire, all the trouble she had gone through— just to have it all turned to dust in a minute.

The body became heavy, energy disappearing, as if being sucked; the sensation of the snow from Haven's avalanche burying her alive.  
Something grabbed her wrist. Gears returning to motion when she got sight of a barrier surrounding those before her, horrified gazes turned towards her direction.

“Evie.”

Cullen was panting, his breath short and fast as he called out for her— a hand tight around her wrist, other over the pommel of his sword.  
It was then that Evelyn realized that she was standing, leaning over the table as the hand of the arm that was being grabbed was holding her staff. She had been on and about to attack Cole in an attempt to make him stop, to prevent the lie from being revealed.

It was too late.

“It's worth it,” he repeated once more, his eyes empty as if being in a trance. “Lying to Cullen —it's worth it.”


	3. Chapter 3

##

 

The air was suffocating, each breath burning her lungs. It was hard to breathe, but she did it anyway.

Cullen was sitting at her side, his head down, face hidden by clasped fingers, forearms supported by both elbows against the table's surface.  
If not for the sound of his respiration —short and heavy exhales showing as his shoulders raised and downed, revealing the tension of his every muscle—, Evelyn wouldn't have felt so horrible.  
She could feel the twisting of her stomach, gastric liquid dancing frenetically around. She held her breath, certain that may she had not stiffened, the not-so-nice juice would've spilled around already.

Her eyes dared to cast a shy and hesitant glance at her lover, not sure of what to do before the situation at hand; it was over— that she was sure. But what about him? What would be of him?  
She should've thought about that before involving him in her machinations.

If the heaviness of the air wasn't enough to choke her to death, the intoxicating silence would soon put her out of misery. At least, she could only pray for that to be the truth— facing Cullen was harder than facing any dragon.

They had been at it for hours to no end. Both alone in the tavern, as the others had been gone as soon as Cole's words had made Cullen's hold at Evelyn's wrist became nothing but a vague memory.  
Maker's Breath—her Commander's gaze when the words brought the realization of its meaning. Months and months spent together hastily twisting around and turning to corrupt words before him. The discovery that the woman he loved, the woman he swore to protect and stand by until his last breath had been nothing if not a lie; that her words were nothing but empty.

A shift of his body made Evelyn tense.  
“Cullen, I—”  
“Stop.”  
His voice was firm and deep, he took a deep breath and dropped his arms to the table as he continued.  
“I don't want to hear it, Trevelyan.”

She bit her lips.  
Trevelyan— not ”Evie”, “Evelyn” nor “Inquisitor”, but “Trevelyan”.

“I can explain,” she tried again, only to have her words dismissed with a wave of his hand.  
“Just tell me this,” he spoke, much to her surprise. “Why? You knew —you know— how I feel about you. You know that if you came to me, explained and asked, I would've —happily— agreed to marry you. You knew that, but instead you chose to lie to me.”  
He hasn't turned to look at her until then, and Evelyn suddenly found herself wishing he had kept his gaze to the other side, for his amber irises asked questions she didn't want to answer. There was the hurt, the resentment—

But over it all was love.

Even now, even after finding the truth, after everything... There was no hate on his expression, not even a bit.

He loved her, it was clear. She had never doubted it. But now— now she felt miserable for doing him wrong.

Swallowing the hesitation down and clearing her throat as she tried to ignore the nausea creeping her guts, she spoke.  
“I... I never meant for this to be like this. The truth is that I never meant to hurt you.”

How pathetic she sounded; she realized as the words came to be. How could he believe her?

A pregnant pause went by. The sensation of a giant wall had emerged between them.  
If she tried to reach out, she certainly would've found that the wall was more real, more physical than one might've thought.

Evelyn wished for him to say something; fast. For him to yell at her— scream, call her names, anything that could make things better for him, anything that would punish her.

But instead, what she met was only the shimmering of his irises when she dared to look up. Eyes locking together, and there was that gaze again; amber eyes of pure adoration. Eyes that aimed her with such heat and warmth that it would make even the coldest of the Frostback Mountains melt.

She then realized, her mind spinning madly as emotions overflowed her; how much of a fool she was.

For Cullen's hands reached out to her, one resting around her waist, pulling her closer, bodies colliding with strength.  
The same hand moved again, now to her back, tightening their half hug while the other one went up to her cheeks, sliding until it clasped her chin, lifting it up.  
Her eyes widened as she gasped in surprise, words dying when his mouth clashed against her lips, forcefully at first.  
His tongue pushed the small gap of her gasp, obligating her to make space for him.

Their kiss was bittersweet. Long, desperate. Each encounter of their tongues revealing uncharted emotions.  
Passion, pain, longing, desire.  
The taste of salty tears mixing to the raw feelings— hers? His? They didn't know, it didn't matter anymore.

He took his ring off and gave it back to her.

Evelyn closed her hands around it, tightly. Eyelids shutting down as she savored the moment, the consequences of their break up running through her mind.  
She failed, but the hurting in her heart wasn't due that realization.

Her hands found its way to her neck, reaching under her blouse to pull over and off her head the gift he had given her.  
With a silent question, she eyed him. His nod becoming a consent as he downed his head for her to pass the silver chain down his neck. The coin glinting against his collar bone when the light coming through the window reflected upon it.  
“It brought me luck,” she started, voice failing as their gaze met and her hand caressed his cheeks. “It brought me closer to you. And though I regret what I did, though I regret lying... I don't regret the time we spent together.”

He looked surprised, speechless even, but his widened eyes and astonished expression soon gave way to a soft one. He leaned in towards her, lips brushing her closed eyelids, placing a chaste kiss down there before moving to her forehead.  
“I love you,” he said, honeyed hoarse tone making the words vibrate against her skin, fingers entwining for one last time.

“I know.”

No one ever dared to speak on the subject. Yet that didn't stop the side glances Evelyn received every now and then— gossips regarding how the Inquisitor had used and broken the heart of her Commander.

It was needless to say that her image had suffered much when the events somehow became public. First their break up, followed by the truth of their relationship, weeks later.  
And Maker— the scandal! Death threats, angry and revolting letters accumulating in her room.  
She stopped reading them after the sixteenth one.  
The damage was out of proportions; it jeopardized not only Inquisitor Trevelyan, but also the Inquisition, gossips and intrigues questioning the integrity of her decisions.  
Things got so out of hand, that Cullen had to publicly step up in defense of his leader— an idea suggested by himself while Evelyn was away chasing some left red templars in the Hissing Wastes. He was very assertive at the time, easily convincing Cassandra, Josephine and Divine Victoria to set things in motion.  
The event in question took place in front of the Grand Cathedral, in Val Royeaux. Every member of the Inquisition was present, everyone— except for Evelyn.

Between the gossips, her struggling feelings of guilt and shame, her awkward interactions with Cullen and the Exalted Council, added to the lost of her left arm and consequently, of the Anchor, the stress proved to be too much for her to handle.  
She had gotten sick, high fevers, vomiting, depression and fatigue were some of the symptoms that became responsible for the suggestion of her taking a vacation.

Evelyn knew what that meant. She knew that once she set feet out of Skyhold in the direction to Ostwick she would never come back. There was no need for her anymore, her stay was only damaging the Inquisition further.  
What helped her to make her decision much easier was also the fact that the members of her Inner Circle had already all left.  
They had moved on with their life, and now was her time to do the same; the Inquisition was now a peacekeeper force, and wasn't as necessary as it once was.

And so, in the same day that Cullen's public speech took place in Val Royeaux, Evelyn parted to Ostwick, never to see him again.

The news of the event reached her through Divine Victoria's letter.  
It was a success— his words (which were not specified by Leliana) had somehow put to end any malicious gossips regard the Inquisition's name.  
The rumors of renewed tension between mages and templars were also addressed and ceased to be.  
Whatever Cullen had said, it appealed to the crowd.

Evelyn's heart throbbed in her chest when she came to the letter's end.

 

「(...)Regarding those that were still dubious about the truth behind the Commander's words, fear not. Those he had not convinced by taking his usual approach to things —the offer to face the truth of his sword, as you could expect of someone like our dear Commander—, were convinced when he let his shield and sword fall down to the ground and took a piece of paper out of his pocket.  
I must say none of us had expected that.  
With Cullen's consent, I've attached the paper he read to the crowd that day. It turns out 'twas a letter meant for you, but he couldn't bring himself the courage to send it. Maybe he changed his mind after reading it to all Val Royeaux.  
Poor Commander didn't leave his office for the next two weeks after returning to Skyhold, so have Josie informed me.  
With no further delay, I'm ending my words here. I look forward to your return to work, my lady Inquisitor.

Best Regards,  
Leliana」

 

As she unfolded the second paper, Evelyn couldn't help but grin as soon as her eyes caught sight of the scratched words at the start of the letter. She could easily imagine Cullen by his desk, breath heavy and trembling hands as he tried to think what was the most appropriate manner to address her.  
“Inquisitor,” no. “Trevelyan,” no. “Evie,” too informal. “Miss Trevelyan, Lady Inquisitor, Inquisitor Trevelyan—” many variations showing his difficulty. Evelyn was sure that he had already a mountain of paper with old attempts, probably receiving a scold from Josephine for wasting too much material, that being the most reasonable explanation to why all those scribbles had made their way to her hands.  
Cullen's reports were always so neat and well written— his perfectionism would never let him accept such mess.

But it seems he was desperate.

 

「Evelyn (is this fine?),

I've written this letter before you left, I'm ashamed to admit this is not my first attempt to writing to you, as I'm sure you've already realized. I'm hiding my failures in one of my desk drawers, praying to the Maker that Josephine somehow doesn't have the brilliant idea of storming my office. She had been eyeing me suspiciously since she found the first pile of discarded letters. That smug grin of hers makes me nervous.  
By the time you've received this, my speech must've already taken place. I don't know what will come from it, and I'm not going to spend the rest of this letter explaining what I'm talking about, I'm sure Leliana will fill you with everything as soon as she can.  
I'm worried about you— but I guess you already know that. Your health is a constant topic during the morning meetings, but Josephine and I have both done our best to keep it from you.  
I hope you've not realized this, but every morning I go to your door. I spend half an hour fidgeting as I try to decide if I should come in or not— the tension between us is palpable, as you know.  
As you can also imagine, the coward me always run away. But last night I was able to gather enough courage to enter.  
You were sleeping, smiling; just like you did back the time we slept together. Seeing you so peaceful made me smile.  
When I turned around to go away, I flinched.  
My name had come out of your lips.  
It took me a moment to realize you were still fast asleep. I hope you don't mind me for moving closer and taking your hand in mine. At the time I didn't know why I did that, but that's no longer the case.

Evelyn, I thought that things would get easier with time, but I couldn't have been more wrong.  
My feelings never diminished, and the more I try to not think about you; to not think about your eyes and your lips, to not remember the sweet flavor of your lips and the warmth of your skin, the more I realize that I never stopped loving you.

I don't think I'll ever come to forgive nor forget what you have done— you know that.  
But take my words for what they are, because I am certain that the Maker had smiled upon me when he sent you my way.  
I could not have been happier to have had you by my side.

I love you, Evelyn Trevelyan.

Cullen Stanton Rutherford」

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue, a close to the story.
> 
> Two years after the Exalted Council.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a weak woman. That's all.
> 
> I've promised myself that I wouldn't make this fluff, but I can't make it have a sad ending; life is sad enough already.  
> And Cullen doesn't deserve being miserable.
> 
> So, lots of bittersweet feelings here, some fluff.  
> Ok, who am I trying to fool? Lots of fluff.  
> Enjoy!

##  
Fereldans have always said that Mabari were one of the most intelligent creatures the Maker had ever created, and Evelyn never doubted that.  
But that wasn't the case when she heard one barking at her.

The merchant eyed her suspiciously— surely, Mabari were a rare sight in Ostwick. The nobility of the city was as distasteful as the Orlesian.  
It wasn't a good thing having one of those “fereldan beasts” parading around, but one barking at you was considered to be the Maker's way of telling the world you were a bad person— and by bad it meant “thief”.  
As if the hood that she was wearing to cover her face wasn't suspicious enough already.

Evelyn sighed, trying to ignore the dog beside her —praying silently to the Maker for it to go away— while she gave the merchant the money for the oranges.

Two years had gone by since the Exalted Council, since the Inquisitor disappeared.  
However, people didn't forget the face of the savior of Thedas so easily, especially when they knew she now had no left arm to protect her.  
That was the reason for her hood, for her caution of hiding her face and covering her missing arm. One would think her to be a beggar —Dorian would definitely be calling her a hobo—, had she not payed her groceries and told the man to keep the charge.

She just wanted to get back home, but it seemed such wish was nothing more than a delusion at the moment.

The Mabari didn't stop barking, not making it any easier for her to stay out of view; for a small crowd had gathered around.  
People eyed her, piercing gazes being cast in her direction, those snobby eyes that only nobles had.

When she received the bag with her oranges and the merchant thanked the tip (giving her a much warmer glance upon the sight of money), she nodded a goodbye.  
Evelyn was about to turn, the dog barking frantically now, almost as if was trying to get her attention (or someone's, which seemed to be weird given the fact that he —had— grabbed everyone's attention).

Her movements were fast, eyes passing by the dog with the objective to aim the path forward. But her gaze stopped, something in her brain clicking at the sight of the Mabari.

“Isn't that—” her ears captured a woman gossiping, not far from her. The horror of the possibility of being recognized made Evelyn's muscles petrify, fear creeping her mind and precluding her ears of making sense of the rest of the woman's words.

But as soon as the emotions overtook her body, soon they were replaced for something much worse.  
There was an echo in her mind, her brain playing tricks with her senses as she swore she had just heard a much familiar voice calling for the dog— who coincidentally had a much familiar name.  
Knees trembled and went weak when she heard it again, the source coming from behind her as she thought a hand tried to reach for her left elbow, only to be met with emptiness.  
“I'm sorry for that, ser—”  
The man's words fell short when Evelyn turned around and their eyes met.

“Cullen.”

She didn't know what made the nobles more frenetic— the reveal of her identity (as her hood fell down with her swift motion), the realization of the Commander's presence or seeing the two of them face to face in public.  
Evelyn suspected the answer came within the next moment, when the man's strong arm moved from the rags that covered her body— one cupping her cheeks and making her head lift and eyes gaze his, as the other fell to her back, pulling her body closer and evolving her in a tight embrace.

Frantic words going around, the noise stealing what once was peace. They were talking, pointing fingers at the two members of the Inquisition— much was said about Evelyn's sudden disappearance, and seeing her there, in front of them...!

For the first time, Evelyn didn't care about the gossips, for she was certain that the strong arms of her Commander would protect her from whatever evil might come from the situation.  
She closed her eyes, face resting against his broad chest.

Maker, she had missed him.  
Missed his touch, his warmth, his loving words and eyes.

Evelyn pulled back a little, eyes locking. Her heart jumped and melted as that gaze— that gaze she had come to love— was bestowed upon her. That gaze that screamed how much he loved her, even after all the wrong she had done.

Tears surprised her, making her eyes widen up at the realization of her overflowing emotions. Cullen's thumbs as he caressed and dried up the drops from her cheeks made her smile.  
“Evelyn,” he started, stealing her attention from whatever thought her mind might've been pursuing. “Evelyn, I—”  
She smiled again, standing on her tiptoes as her lips searched and found his. Mouths clashing in tenderness, words dying at the encounter.

After reading Cullen's letter, Evelyn couldn't help but cry, regret overtaking her body more and more, until she broke.  
She cried like a kid, like she never cried since she was sent to the Circle.

If the Maker would, for whatever reason, grant her only one wish, she wanted to see the man that made her heart ache, happy— with, or without her.

It took her a week to be able to write a response, one that she was sure would convey exactly how she felt. And another for her to gather the courage necessary to send it.  
Evelyn promised herself, promised the Maker and Andraste that she would wait for his answer, no matter how long it took. And may his response ever be in her favor she would guarantee that there w no twisted feelings from her part.  
She would love that man and make him happy, would give him everything; from her body to her soul, whatever he demanded from her.

She broke their kiss, just enough for her to say, between tears and sobbing, those three words that once meant nothing for her.  
But now meant everything.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, eyes closed as her hand caressed his cheeks.

Evelyn took his hand, pulling him around through the crowd and out of curious transeunt eyes.  
She took him home, the walk taking thrice the usual time as they had to stop every few meters for her to fill his face with kisses and drown him in words of love.

Cullen's dog followed them closely behind, tail not stopping waggling as he barked happily.

 

「Commander Cullen Stanton Rutherford,  
  
I've kept the ring.  
I love you.  
Marry me.

With love,  
Evelyn Trevelyan (Rutherford)」

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was it!  
> I hope you have enjoyed this not-so-short piece! :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading 'til the end, for the kudos and comments!! You guys are adorable!


End file.
